


Danganronpa: Hell In High Water

by shslsweetheart



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, F/F, F/M, Fan Killing Game (Dangan Ronpa), Gen, Kinda, M/M, Murder Mystery, New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Original Character Death(s), Reader-Interactive, Super Dangan Ronpa 2 Spoilers, y'all can pick the free time events if you want
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:09:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shslsweetheart/pseuds/shslsweetheart
Summary: “Junko Enoshima is dead!” she finds the words escaping her throat before she’s ever aware that she wants to speak at all, her breaking voice luring the eyes of all those present. “We—we all watched her die years ago, when we were just kids! So why? Why are you doing this to us? Why are you making us play another killing game?”*********************Sixteen ultimate students find themselves on a deserted cruise ship on what was supposed to be their first day of class at Hope's Peak Academy and are forced into a killing game two years after the world finally recovered from The Tragedy.
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s), but implied, maybe heavily implied, romantic relationships are implied





	1. Prologue: Between Despair and the Deep Blue Sea

_I always get the strangest feeling when I look at a fish bowl. I’ve been like that ever since I was a kid. I think it was something about the overlap between perception and reality; if I turned my head one way, Mr. Bubbles was the picture of normality, every bit as ordinary as me. The next, he was stretched far beyond that normality, warped and distorted so much that he barely resembled himself. Which depiction of him was real? Looking from the left? The right? Or was it only when I looked down at him from directly above the water? And if this little goldfish’s tentative hold on reality was so frightening to me, how must I have appeared to him?_

_I never understood then. Today, I am one step closer._

Hana Akiyama wakes inside the fish bowl, blinking away fatigue; beautiful blue skies dusted with the kind of clouds children made sentient blur into view, shielded by a glass dome that stretches far beyond her initial line of sight. She would make an attempt at getting up right away if it weren’t for the flock of seagulls passing overhead catching her attention. Are they inside the dome, with her? It is impossible to tell at the moment; the picturesque sky above now resembles a churning ocean spitting sea foam. It’s funny, she swears she could almost hear—

Hana shoots up, ignoring her body’s pleas against it. A silent “I told you so” manifests as she falls almost immediately after; her hands shoot out just in time to catch herself, latching onto _a railing? Where—_

The dizziness and nausea clears up through sheer willpower _or is it shock?_ Ocean stretches for as far as the eye can see. Hana wishes that sight could make her as calm as it appears; the ship can’t be moving at the moment, because the water is completely and utterly still. 

_What is this place? How did I—_

Someone is shouting some distance away; Hana whips around to see what or who exactly was causing a commotion; whatever it is, it will surely provide more answers to just standing around and staring off into the void. But such a simple action could never be that easy for her. Hana’s scarf catches on some part of the railing; before she knows it, she’s tumbling back over it. Because of the glass dome encircling the ship, there isn’t any danger of falling overboard into the water; regardless, she doesn’t want to find out where she’s going to end up (or how many bones she’s going to break, for that matter). 

The sky is at her fingertips; Hana frantically tries to grab at it in some vain hope that she will catch on a passing cloud that will pull her back up but grasps nothing but thin air. Wind rushing to meet her, she slams her eyes shut, shutting out the boundless blue sky, the fishbowl, her fingertips, everything. It’s just Hana and the impact both a moment and a lifetime away. 

At least, she thinks as much. But in the last moment before her backwards dive would have shifted to be headfirst in form, a hand reaches out that is decidedly not her own. It grabs onto the very tips of her fingers and holds them in a vice grip. Hana’s eyes snap open. 

“I’ve got you!” The one who had grabbed her hand and was pulling her to safety (albeit with some difficulty) is a boy as pale as a sheet in every sense of the word: every bit of him, from his skin to his hair to the surgical mask tucked under his chin, are all snow white. With his presence reflected by the harsh sunlight beating down on them, he’s almost too blinding to look at at all. If it weren’t for the blue of his eyes refracted through his glasses, Hana would’ve been convinced that he was a ghost. 

In a moment’s time, Hana is flung back over the right side of the railing, the momentum sending her right into the boy who’d rescued her. He at least has the sense to catch her properly before they both tumble to the ground— _er, deck?—_ his arms wrapped around her tightly. Adrenaline vanishing from her veins the moment she takes hold of him, Hana’s legs nearly give out underneath her now that solid ground is once again safely below her feet. But she can’t linger on the fear in silence for long, not when the boy holding her is just as out of breath as she is. Just as she opens her mouth— 

“Are you alright?” He asks, shifting to hold her by the shoulders, increasing the distance between them just enough to knock some sense back into Hana, _or at the very least, least an ounce or two of shame_ . _Damn, he beat me to the punch._

“I-I’m fine, really. Thank you so much,” she musters her brightest smile while reaching up to fix her headband with a little difficulty—first impressions are everything, after all, _though I guess I might’ve already wasted this one_. “I don’t want to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.” 

His eyebrows unfurrow and some of the tension in his shoulders vanishes; Hana supposes it had worked to put the boy at ease, if only a little bit. It’s here where he seems to realize he’s being a _little_ too physical for a total stranger, even if it’s unintentional and after he had just saved her life; his actions of letting her go and frantically moving away from her happen concurrently. Hana smiles at seeing his face turn the very same shade of red as the crosses are on his green jacket. The ground under her feet seems a little more stable than it had been a second ago. 

“I’m glad,” the boy pulls his mask up over his nose and looks away. 

The faint shouting Hana had heard earlier starts up again. She and the boy look around to see what all the commotion is, and spot a group of people standing towards the aft of the deck, next to a set of doors that presumably led below it. One is faced towards them, waving their hand in the air; though they’re too far away for Hana to make out many details, their bright orange hair catches her eye. 

“I guess that’s our cue,” she says. The boy nods, but grabs Hana’s arm to stop her from going just yet.  
“Y-your scarf—” is all he could manage, and though it seems like the rest of his sentence had gotten away from him, Hana realizes what he was talking about. 

“Oh, you’re right.” She had yet to detangle her muffler from the railing. After spending a few seconds accomplishing that task, she turns around to see that the boy hadn’t started towards the crowd some ways away; he’s waiting for her, fidgeting with what looks to be a first aid bag slung across his shoulder. Hana is just a little surprised to see him there, even though she knows she probably shouldn’t be given that he’s already saved her life one and a half times. 

“Thanks again,” she says, just a little sheepish. “We should probably get going though.”

“R-Right.” The boy nods, and the pair set off. 

With nothing but the silence and the impending crowd of increasingly strange figures before them, Hana finds more time to wonder _who are these people? What are we all doing here?_

“Took you long enough,” the orange haired boy who had shouted at them earlier is the first to speak when the pair meets up with the crowd, and Hana takes note of his orange-tinted glasses. “Thought we’d never start.”

Hana looks around at this motley crew and guesses there are around fifteen people here; each looks as though they’re dressed for a wildly different event—her eyes linger on the girl with light purple hair done up in twin buns and large brass gears somehow embedded in her face. Hana spares a glance at the pale boy who accompanied her; he’s looking around their surroundings nervously, gaze flitting from person to person before stopping on something at their feet. Hana follows it to see a symbol embedded on the deck—the emblem for a certain school. 

“Uh, start what, exactly?” Hana looks back to the orange-haired boy. “Who are you? And does anyone happen to know where we are?” 

“That’s what we were just about to discuss,” the platinum-haired girl’s strangely pleasant expression was the least of Hana’s concerns; her attention is already caught on the golden evening gown she’s wearing instead. “We were waiting to start until everyone was here.”

“Wasn’t my idea, for the record—” Another girl calls out, the annoyance in her voice as palpable as the general confusion in the air; she has the kind of beauty that could very well be considered elegant were it not for the fierce scowl that seems to be permanently carved into her face. Something about her looks familiar to Hana, but she can’t quite put her finger on it. “You two took for-fucking-ever to get here. I don’t get why we had to wait so goddamn long to discuss things when I’m pretty sure no one here knows a goddamn thing about what’s going on.”

“I don’t think we should be so quick to jump to conclusions,” A masculine voice called out, disappearing so quickly that Hana couldn’t tell which figure in the crowd was talking; _are they standing in the back or something?_ “What’s the last thing you two remember before waking up here?” 

“The last thing I—” And then it hits her like a truck, almost literally; a splitting pain washes over her the moment she tries to recall the memory in question. But the image still emerges from the fog, even if it’s being tilted side to side like an old marble game. It’s the place she’s seen in dreams and nightmares alike, a beacon of both despair and hope.

Hope’s Peak Academy. 

Hana Akiyama had been invited to attend this prestigious, infamous academy; the elation she felt while reading her acceptance letter is a feeling she still conjures to help ease her nerves, like in that moment she so desperately tried to recall: seeing the school in person for the very first time, anxious but ready to start a brand new chapter of her life. She takes her first step through the school’s gate and— 

And then it’s gone. Like an old-school film strip with a few frames missing being fed into a projector, it all cuts to black with no warning. There’s nothing past that point but another dense fog, though for a reason she can’t name, Hana knows this one cannot be dispersed at the moment. 

“I doubt they remember any more than the rest of us,” the platinum-haired girl from earlier adjusts her shawl, the stars embedded in it shimmering in the sunlight. “Tell me, are your last memories of arriving at Hope’s Peak Academy?”

“T-That’s right,” Hana finds herself glancing at the pale boy next to her again, unsure of what exactly what she was looking for— _confidence? comfort?—_ but finding nothing at all. He notices her staring and meets her gaze, but in that second before she looks away in embarrassment, there is a certain light in his eyes, unreadable but in a different way than the expression he wore moments before. Unreadable but in a way where it was only just barely out of reach. _I wonder if we’re the same in that regard._ “I’m sorry, am I missing something?” 

“Just as much as the rest of us!” A rather short boy seems to pop in and out of existence in the crowd, peeking around someone’s legs one moment, then disappearing and reappearing over someone else’s shoulders half a crowd away a moment later. “Everyone here is in the same boat, as a matter of fact. We all remember arriving at the academy and then _crash_!” He pops out of hiding with a loud clap, bouncing on the soles of his shoes. “Fade to black!”

“And with no telegraphing at that,” another pretty classmate Hana swears she had seen somewhere before chimes in; that boy’s golden gleam would definitely be pretty hard to forget. “Absolutely no sense of proper pacing.”

“Look, as confusing as all this is, we should probably start with introductions before we start trying to take on the bigger problems at hand,” a girl with a sea-blue sweater attempts to calm the room; there is a lilt to her voice that vaguely reminds Hana of a lullaby. “I mean, we can’t exactly try and figure all this out if we can’t even talk to each other properly. Does anyone have any objections to that?” There is a moment of genuine quiet. 

“Guess not,” a low voice cuts through the chatter; Hana traces it back to a boy with green hair falling just past his shoulders and the face of a classical Roman statue— _jeez, boys shouldn’t be allowed to be this pretty_. 

“I’ll start then, if you don’t mind,” The girl smiles, sunlight shining through her golden blonde hair. “Better to just do it as a group to not waste any time, you know? I’m Naomi Bushida, the Ultimate Serenity. It’s nice to meet you all, even under circumstances like these.” 

_Why do I still get the feeling that I’m one step behind everyone?_

“I take it that’s why you don’t seem nearly as concerned as you should be.” It’s the straight-to-business boy who had brought up their missing memories a few minutes ago. Hana actually manages to spot him in the crowd this time; though his voice remains at a steady tone, his presence certainly does not in a way Hana finds difficult to put into words. _He waves in and out of the foreground and background like a wave. It seems like absolutely anything could wash out of his mouth at any time and it wouldn’t be out of character for him._ “What exactly does that mean, anyway?”  
“I’m an unofficial diplomat, most of the time,” the blonde— _Naomi,_ Hana corrects herself—replies, her smile fading but general tranquility remaining. “working to help nations draft peace treaties, serving as an advisor to help stay out of conflict, things like that. But I’ve also worked as all sorts of counselors, and even spent a little while as a hostage negotiator. I’ve been told that my presence just makes people feel more at ease, you know?”

_Uh, okay. Wasn’t really expecting such a strange Ultimate talent right out of the gate, but she seems really nice, I guess._

“That’s so cool!” The energetic boy from earlier is back again, eyes sparkling at Naomi. “How many world leaders have you met? Have you ever personally stopped a war? Caused one? What’s the biggest argument you’ve mediated been about? Did you get any hostages killed? How did Hope’s Peak even scout you?”

There was probably more chatter after his sudden barrage of questions, but Hana had since tuned out, attention instead caught by another boy standing off to the side who seemed just a _little_ too enraptured with the blonde in question. Honestly, he looks like someone straight out of a B-horror movie, with weird red and grey robes both alike and unlike those of a priest, and a line of crudely-done stitches bisects his face into two diagonal halves. His ash-brown hair is long enough to be pulled back into a long ponytail, but none of those odd features can top those eyes of his. He looks at Naomi like she’s— _god, I don’t even know._ It is the kind of awe you treat something that is mostly unknown, like outer space, or the ocean, but at the same time it definitely isn’t that at all. And to top it all off, there’s that smile, too… Hana wants to say something, but the opportunity had already passed. 

“How about you go next, Mr. Trench Coat?” Naomi asks to the disappointment of the boy still standing just inches from her face, and Hana watches her eyes flicker over to the strange stitched-up boy just for a second or two, though he isn’t the one she addresses. _How can she notice something so creepy and have her expression not shift at all?_ “You seem the type to like to get this sort of thing out of the way quickly.”

The blue-haired, question-ridden boy she’s talking to crosses his arms and Hana notices his hands are covered in oddly-shaped scars, but he makes no sign that he disagrees with any part of her statement. “Name’s Shintaro Masuda. Even though I know I’m a student at Hope’s Peak, I uh… I honestly can’t remember my ultimate talent.”

_Can’t remember?_

A loud pop draws Hana’s attention away from the startling revelation; a girl with ruby-red hair is apparently chewing bubblegum in the midst of— _whatever this is_ . “Are you kidding me? How do you forget that kinda stuff, like, seriously? Shouldn’t that kinda thing be like, I don’t know, part of your childhood or something?”

Shintaro’s shoulders tense up, but slowly fall back into position when he throws up his hands and laughs. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But I guess since I still remember that, then my childhood really had nothing to do with my Ultimate talent.”

“Now _he’s_ the one who doesn’t seem worried enough,” a girl in a green sailor uniform and a matching cat-eared headset cuts in. _Oh, she’s so cute…_

“I mean, I’ve always said if I can’t remember something, it must not have been that important. Least, that’s how I’ve always looked at it,” his reply is sarcastic in tone but definitely has a certain edge to it, though it seems to Hana that the girl was talking more to herself than anyone else. “How about your introduction, hm?”

“Sure thing!” The girl’s smile is just as pleasant but far more intense than Naomi’s as pure sunlight is to artificial light, however warm the latter may be. “I’m Sachi Iida, the Ultimate Voice Actress. I’m definitely sure we’ll all pass whatever weird entrance exam this is supposed to be with flying colors!”

That is a new thought. It’s met with no resistance when it slithers through Hana’s ear— _god please let her be right_ —but starts losing traction when it begins to bounce from neuron to neuron. It is the kind of hope where you know it was too good to be true, try to discard it, but the residue it leaves would linger on Hana’s fingertips, would linger in the furthest reaches of her mind where she could not hope to reach. 

“I cannot say that I remember such an exam being required,” the platinum-haired girl chimes in again, and Hana finally pinpoints that the twinge of an accent she’s hearing in her voice is French. “And would the academy really drop us in a place like this with no explanation? After all, we cannot even remember how we arrived here. All things considered, it hardly seems like a risk they would take, don’t you agree?”

Her honest concern makes Sachi’s smile falter, but not for very long; it snaps back into place like a stretched-out rubber band. “I’m sure it’ll be fine,” she says, then, reaching to press a button on her headset, speaks again (but about thirty decibels louder): “Because I am here!” 

_Wh—Why did her voice get all deep all of a sudden? I swear there’s something familiar about that line, too._

Sachi seemed to get a kick out of most of their surprised expressions, doubling over in a fit of her own laughter after pressing that same button on her headset again. 

“A voice modifier?” the gear-faced girl speaks in a monotonous tone and tilts her head to the right, but to a degree where Hana is worried about her losing her balance. “Isn’t that cheating?”

Sachi draws up her hands—balled into fists—in front of her chest and puffs out her cheeks. “I-It’s just for fun! It’s not like I use them on the job or anything! Jeez, what kinda fake do you take me for?!” 

The gear-faced girl pushes her head back up to a normal angle with just her right index finger, holding it there in place. “Sorry.” 

It’s then Hana stops to get a good look at her—she was easily the most odd looking one here, as her eccentricity extends far beyond her choice in fashion. Her fingers on her right hand are covered by an odd gold plating but her left arm looks more like that of an old-fashioned animatronic than of a human—that same gold plating is present here too, except wiring is exposed in some places, and an odd brass tube connects it from her elbow to the back of her hand. Her clothing can only be described as steampunk, though somehow, Hana has to say that the odd girl pulls it off rather well. 

The girl interprets the awkward silence that follows as an introduction request. “I’m Yume Mori, the Ultimate Toymaker. I hope we can all get along.” 

“Wow, looks like we have a real life protagonist amongst us,” the golden-eyed boy chimes in with a devilish smile. “I can’t tell if your parents loved you or hated you enough to give you a name like that.”

“Me neither.” Yume doesn’t appear to care about what Hana thinks is an extremely prying comment from a total stranger. Before anyone can say another word, however, the childish looking boy from earlier jumps out of the crowd to stand right in Yume’s face, beret nearly flying off his head.

“Forget what’s-her-name, you’re clearly the most interesting one one here! And definitely the most fashionable too!” Hana flinches at the sudden change in volume, but Yume doesn’t budge an inch. “Tell me about all your body mods! Are they just aesthetic, or do they actually have functions? How did they put those gears in your face at all? What happened to the bones in your right arm? Oh, and your clothes, do you have to have all your long-sleeved shirts custom made? Doesn’t that get really expensive?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think we have the time for this,” the green-haired Adonis said. “Can this wait until later?”

“Fine, fine, I know what you want,” the boy puts a little more distance between him and Yume. “The name’s Rei Nishikawa. I might not look it, but I’m the Ultimate Tailor!”

He’s completely wrong in that regard; honestly, Hana should have been able to guess that ultimate talent from his clothing alone. He wore a flashy dark blue suit jacket that ended in twin tails paired with puffy old-fashioned shorts—trunk hose, Hana thinks they’re called. She also finally notices that the beret in his navy-blue hair serves as a pincushion with a bundle of sewing needles stuck in it. 

“You created the Nishi Kishi line, didn’t you?” The red-haired girl’s jaw falls open at his introduction. “Jeez, I had no idea a designer as well known as you was around my age.”

Rei seems disgruntled at that remark, but the girl doesn’t give him any time to reply.

“I think you and Brass Knuckles could definitely have something interesting together,” she bites her up-curling lip, eyes flickering between the two in question. “The two types of crazy would balance each other out, though it’s definitely the kind of relationship you’d normally only see in a manga.”

Yume raises her arm as if to put to her face in thought, but her hand falls limp at the wrist. “Are you talking about me?”

 _Well, there’s no one else she can possibly be referring to,_ and the girl doesn’t appear to deem Yume’s question worthy of a reply. 

“What the hell are you talking about, anyway?” The orange-haired boy looks to be cleaning his ear; Hana guesses that he thinks he misheard the other girl. 

“Yeah, yeah, hurry up and introduce myself before Ace calls me out for wasting time, I get it,” she looks disappointed for just a moment; that careful frown is quickly replaced by a sly grin twice as wide. “I’m Aika Ichihara, the Ultimate Matchmaker. It’s positively lovely to meet you all.”

Aika Ichihara seems to be the literal queen of wearing her heart on her sleeve; that shape was inescapable when it came to her clothing. There was one on every pleat of her blood red suspender-skirt but the ones on either side of the collar of her white button up resembled human hearts. There is a certain aura about her that makes Hana a little flustered just by looking at her _or maybe it’s just because she’s_ **_really_ ** _pretty. Maybe both._

“Anyways, I know how these introductions are going, and since no one interrupted, I nominate Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome over there to go next, since I just _know_ he’s wondering how a girl like me got into Hope's Peak to begin with.” Aika points to the tallest member of the group, a somewhat plain boy who Hana thinks is the polar opposite of the pale boy from earlier. His black hair ends just above his eyes of the same color, and he’s clad in a typical black gakuran uniform. The only feature of note that he has is the myriad of jewelry hanging from his left ear. 

“Masamune Ohara, Ultimate Bodyguard.” His voice is far lower than what Hana expects it to be, though she doesn’t get to hear it for very long. She wouldn’t call his expression blank, as his gaze definitely has a certain edge to it, but Hana somehow gets the feeling that the latter isn’t all there. 

“Ooh, the strong and silent type, huh? Cute. I’m sure you don’t need my help with a handsome face like that too,” Aika sizes him up. “Though, be sure to give me a call if you ever decide otherwise, okay?”

“Hm.” If he didn’t before, Masamune definitely seems done with the conversation now. Aika’s comment on there being a pattern to their introductions is correct; since no one has any comments on Masamune, it’s unclear who should go next. 

“I’ll go,” the green-haired boy speaks up. “My name is Ichiro Yagami. Hope’s Peak Academy has named me the Ultimate Marksman.” Well, now the giant target over his heart makes sense, but Hana’s attention is elsewhere. A few of the others noticeably tense up at the mention of his ultimate talent, and it takes her a moment to figure out why that was, but she does. The thought is expelled from her mind almost as soon as it takes shape. There’s no reason to treat Ichiro so coldly over a possibility that’s so— 

Hana wants to think such an idea is the definition of outlandish. But she doesn’t. Not in a place like this. She tries her best to grin at his introduction, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“Ah, my apologies,” Ichiro continues with a sad smile, _as if he’s used to this_. “I didn’t mean to put a damper on things. I promise I’m more skilled with throwing darts than with handguns.”

Right. Of course he is. Of course he is. The silence is still uneasy despite his best efforts to try and change it. 

“Hey, you’re just the type of guy who could help me out!” the orange-haired boy is one of the only ones who doesn’t look at least a little put off by his introduction. “I like to think I’m a decent enough shot, but with you around I could reach a whole new level!”

“And what is it that you do, exactly?” Ichiro tilts his head. Hana too doubts that they’ll have time to spare for whatever hobby he’s talking about in a place like this. 

“I’m a thrill-seeker known as the Ultimate Daredevil. Name’s less important, but it’s Takeshi Yamane, if you really hafta know.” He brushes his—well, what Hana decides is a fluffy cape—behind him, sharp teeth bared in a wide grin. His outfit is certainly flashy enough for the role, she thinks. 

“Assisting a daredevil, hm? I’m not quite sure how I’d be of use, but the job sounds interesting enough, I suppose.” 

“Suppose? You’ve got to give it more energy, man. All or nothing!” Takeshi seems a little too fired up considering the circumstances, but someone else cuts in before Ichiro can reply.

“Are you two done yet? There’s still a bunch of us who haven’t gone, and I’d prefer to get this shitshow on the road already.” It’s the firebreather from earlier who clearly thinks she has better things to do at the moment, though Hana can’t fathom what those could possibly be. 

“Well, there’s really no need to be so rude about it,” Naomi comments, and to Hana’s surprise, doesn’t recoil when the other girl whips around to give her the fiercest of glares. _Hazards of the job, I guess._

“The name’s Midori Endo, the Ultimate Figure Skater. You better not forget it.” She stuffs her hands in the pockets of her jersey jacket with a huff, turning her head to shift her blue-green hair out of her face. Hana realizes the black leotard-skirt peeking out from under that red jacket is exactly what she had guessed it to be. _Like I could with an introduction like that! She’s pretty scary…_

“Ah, I was sure I had seen you somewhere before,” the platinum-haired girl says. “I had no idea you were so…bold in person.” 

“You got a problem with that?”  
“Ah, no, not at all, not at all,” Hana silently commends her for her bravery. “Ah, where are my manners? My name is Camille Leblanc. I am known as the Ultimate Lounge Singer.”

“Lounge singer? Like from the 50s?” Yet another question falls from Rei’s mouth. “Well, you’re certainly dressed for the part..”

Hana has to admit, her dress really _is_ a work of art, though also the kind that she knows she’ll never be able to afford, not even if she saves every penny she earns in a lifetime. Hana makes a note to ask her how she manages to get her braids into a pair of even loops. 

“Who would like to go next, then?” Camille asks, glancing around the crowd for unfamiliar faces. 

“O-oh, uh, I’ll go, if that’s alright,” that hesitant tone is more familiar to Hana than the rest, and it’s coming from right beside her. “My name is Akira Saito, and I’m called the Ultimate Field Medic. It’s—it’s nice to meet you.” That last comment possessed a peculiar tone considering its contents: one of genuine hesitation, like he wasn’t really going to be sure about it until someone agreed or disagreed. 

“Field? Forgive my curiosity, but at your age, what kind of—” Naomi starts to ask when a darkness washes over her expression. She tugs her sweater closer to her chest. “I’m so sorry. Forget I said anything.”

Hana watched as those who didn’t realize where Akira worked before did so now. That same darkness was present wherever you looked now, even on the faces of those like Takeshi and Midori. 

“Ah, it’s alright,” he looks guilty. “a-anyways, I’d rather not dwell on the specifics. Anyone want to go next?”

“I suppose my time has come,” the stitched-up man speaks in a low but somehow honeyed voice. Hana tries not to stare at—well, pretty much every part of him is creepy, so she tries to just keep her eyes locked onto his, but when his gaze flickers over to meet hers, even though it lasted for but a second, a chill runs down her spine. “My name is Kano Kobayashi. I was scouted by Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Religious Leader.”

Not even Midori is willing to touch that one. Not when his hungry stare barely has barely left Naomi this whole time. And then, thankfully, without prompt— 

“That appears to be my cue, I believe,” the dark-haired, golden-eyed boy decides to fill the void with a sparkle. “I am Tohma Watanabe, the Ultimate Playwright. It’s a rare pleasure to meet characters as interesting as Ultimates from Hope’s Peak Academy.” Hana isn’t quite sure he looks the part; his simple white and yellow striped shirt is a remarkable departure from the likes of Yume and Kano. Then again, what is a playwright supposed to look like anyway? 

“Oh! I’ve heard of your work as well!” Camille smiles, clapping her hands together. “I absolutely adored _Requiem or Rescue._ ”

“I’m so glad to hear that,” Tohma grins right back, and though it’s not directed at Hana, it makes her heart beat just a little bit faster. “I should have expected such good taste from a lady of culture such as yourself.” 

Camille doesn’t continue the conversation any further, though the silence again isn’t a problem for very long.

“Jin Nakimura, Ultimate Horror Mangaka.” Hana somehow hadn’t seen him at all before, not even in a glimpse; it’s as if he suddenly materialized from the very shadows themselves. Hana thinks back to the golden-eyed— _er, Tohma’s_ comment about protagonists; if anyone looks the part, it’s definitely him. His dark purple hair is long enough to leave just one startlingly red eye visible; any attention that might drift to his plain black vest and tie is immediately ripped away by his dark red suit jacket embellished with gruesome lapel pins that depict what Hana can only describe as _splitting faces._ Horror mangaka is definitely right; he looks like he could have popped right out of one himself. He’s _very_ pretty, but his aura is, well, intimidating would be one hell of an understatement.

Hana spots Sachi brighten up and open her mouth to speak out of the corner of her eye, but Jin is evidently quicker on the draw. 

“If you’re going to comment with any sort of praise on my early works, save it. I’m not expecting any of you to have good taste in things like that, but even so, I’d prefer you to keep your trashy opinions to yourself and save me the trouble of correcting you.” His words cut like a knife, causing the smile on Sachi's face to fall in an instant and carving a scowl onto the nearby matchmaker’s face.

“Well aren’t you the charmer,” she hears Aika mutter. 

Hana isn’t prepared for Jin’s gaze to flicker over to her— _I don’t think I could ever be—_ but it does nonetheless; she resists the urge to make herself smaller. “That just leaves you.” 

And with Jin’s eyes come those of the rest of her class. Sure, they were focused on her before when she and Akira first arrived, but then she had the latter to share the attention with. Now the crowd was quite obviously sizing her up, and she isn’t sure if she’ll be able to measure up to their expectations. ( _That makes it sounds like I’m split 50-50 when it’s more like 80-20._ ) Before she can begin her introduction, however—

“And what exactly are you supposed to be, the Ultimate Eyesore?” Midori scoffs, crossing her arms. “And I thought the costumes they made _me_ wear were bad. Just looking at you is giving me a headache.”

Hana bites the inside of her cheek burning with embarrassment, stare flickering downwards to scrutinize her beloved sweets-patterned dress and the strawberry embellishments on her mary janes. This is definitely the worst case scenario for her personally, whether a mysterious seemingly-abandoned ship is involved or not.

“She’s the Ultimate Lucky Student.” The disdain in Jin’s voice is so palpable you can cut it with a knife; Hana guesses this comment stems more from his own impatience than defending her from Midori— _definitely doesn’t strike me as the type_. “You would have realized already that if you didn’t have the listening comprehension skills of a rock.”

“You wanna say that to my face?” Already Midori is readying her fists, but Jin seems… uninterested, to say the least. 

“Uh, I think you’re just proving his point.” Sachi chimes in with a nervous half-smile. 

_Well, a good first impression is already out the window. Got nothing to lose now._

Hana conjures the brightest smile she can muster, trying to turn the spotlight back on herself for just another moment or two. “My name is Hana Akiyama, and yes, I’m the Ultimate Lucky Student. It’s nice to meet you all.”

Her eyes search the crowd. What is she looking for? She sees nothing but faces so unlike her own in every way imaginable. There is nothing any of them have in common with her at all; if she is based from carbon, they are formed from helium. There is a gap there that she will never cross. Not in her lifetime, nor in the next. Hana knows this. She’s known this since she received her acceptance letter from Hope’s Peak Academy. 

So why do some of them seem to be just an arm’s reach away?

“What now?” Hana is only partially aware that she’s speaking at all, as it seems like her ears have been stuffed with cotton. An invisible weight of an understood half-truth tugs them all down. Honestly, their introductions served as a perfect distraction; in their absence, their minds turn toward the most terrible and most plausible possibility. 

But it seems some still have hope that it isn’t true.

“We search the ship, see if we can find anything that might tell us why we’re here,” it’s Shintaro’s voice that broaches the silence with an almost-confidence Hana wishes she had. 

“And if worse comes to worst, find a manual that can tell us how to drive this thing,” Ichiro adds, finger to his chin in thought. That is a thought Hana wants to entertain but knows better. They might be ultimates, but she doesn’t see any Ultimate Sailor among their ranks. However, far be it for her to rip that possibility away from those who believe him and plunge them a little further into despair. The class seemed to be in a careful agreement, as there weren’t exactly a plethora of options regarding their course of action at the moment.

Takeshi is the first one to move from the spot they had all been standing in for quite some time to cross the gap between them and the doorway just ten feet away. A few shift to follow him, but the majority of the group stays put, as if waiting to see what will happen. The daredevil reaches the doors and tugs on the right one’s handle only to be met with a certain sound. _a certain last straw._

_Ding Dong Dong Ding_

All the color drains from Hana’s face, and with a quick cursory glance, those of her classmates too. 

“T-That chime!” Sachi grabs at her arms in an attempt to comfort herself, though Hana doubts she has any success; even Naomi looks rattled at the sound as she carefully places a hand on Sachi’s shoulder. “No, it can’t be—”

“Hey, if this is supposed to be a joke, it ain’t funny!” Takeshi yells at thin air, hands balled up into fists. _please let this be a joke please let this be a joke please—_

Honestly, Hana had half-expected a snide remark from Rei, but even he had lost the smile which, up until this point, she thought was permanently stuck to his face. Most of her classmates wear the same frightened expression with some variation, obviously, but none so striking at the tiniest of grin’s on Jin’s face. _I’m probably just imagining that. Yeah. Definitely._

Her thoughts are interrupted by Midori storming over to examine the set of double doors and taking extra care not to bump into Takeshi while she’s at it. “I don’t get why a ship like this would have a doorbell here, but it’s obvious you pressed it somehow, dumbass! What’d you do anyway, are the doors really—”

Locked, Hana guesses, but the girl in question never finishes that sentence, as something strong bangs on the doors from the other side, making her jump. “Fuck! What the hell was—” Another loud bang, but this one makes it clear that whoever or whatever was on the other side was attempting to bust through the locked doors. Midori quite rightfully backs the _hell_ up, shouting at Takeshi to follow suit, as he doesn’t seem that phased, all things considered. _Hazard of the job._

Hana’s eyes are glued to the scene, but she feels someone else’s on her and turns to see. They’re Akira’s, as wide as dinner plates. She isn’t sure what he’s looking for but while she’s racking her brain for an answer— **_bang!_ **

The doors burst open, knocking the daredevil to the floor of the deck. Whatever lies just beyond the doors is shrouded completely in pitch blackness. No one says a word, each holding their breath and waiting for their worst fears to be realized. Hana realizes she’s trembling. No one says a word. No one says a word. 

A figure—well, emerges certainly isn’t the word to describe how it moved out of the abyss. No, it leaps out over Takeshi so quickly Hana only sees a blur of black and white. She knows then what it is, but it doesn’t quite register until it lands rather gracefully with its hands outstretched in the air.

A half-black, half-white bear with a warped, startlingly red left eye stares back at Class 2-A with a wide grin. He needs no introduction.

“Why hello there! Sorry to keep you waiting for so long! I was planning on joining that cute little introduction circle you guys had going on, but it was taking so long I was about to chew my own arm off just to make something happen! But anyways…” his gleeful, laid back voice is terribly out of place. “Welcome to the _M.S. Despair of the Seas_ ! _I_ am **Monokuma**! The headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy academy and your chaperone on this Killing School Cruise!”

And there it is. That unspeakable truth has finally clawed its way up to the surface and refuses to be pushed back under. Not that there’s any way to even reach it now. 

“Look kid, wherever you’re hiding controlling this thing, we’re going to find you eventually!” Midori yells from behind him, but Hana can see the hint of fear in her eyes. “And trust me, if that’s later rather than sooner, it’s not gonna be pretty.” 

“You really think he’s remote controlled?” Yume asks. “Looks too advanced to me. Wonder what makes him tick…”

“Hey! I’m not just some teddy bear puppet! I’m pure flesh and blood, baby!” Monokuma throws up his arms in anger and Hana recoils on instinct. “And you better not be ignoring me! I’m your headmaster, after all.”

“But there’s no way any of this is serious! It just can’t be...” Naomi tries to convince herself, turning the bear’s attention back to the other side of the crowd.

“Do you _really_ wanna test that theory?”

At his words, a medium-sized section of wall slid out of sight, not unlike how it would in a spy movie, revealing what Hana would call a comically-oversized mounted gatling gun if it weren’t pointed directly at her and her classmates. Everyone present, conscious of it or not, takes a step back. Well, everyone except Masamune. Visibly tense for the first time Hana had noticed so far, he maneuvers himself to shield those closest to him: namely Sachi, Naomi, and Midori. 

“I might look like just another cute and innocent little bear, but I promise you that these claws have been soaked in blood before,” he brandished the objects in question menacingly. “and definitely will again if you don’t respect your kind and benevolent headmaster.”

Hana’s head spins in the resulting silence. No one rebukes him, no one has a witty retort about his craftsmanship or a reply directed towards whoever they think is controlling him via remote in a corner somewhere. No one—no one says a goddamn thing. Each student is left alone with their thoughts, as chock full of despair as they may be. _This can’t—this can’t be happening. Not when…not when…_

“Junko Enoshima is dead!” she finds the words escaping her throat before she’s ever aware that she wants to speak at all, her breaking voice luring the eyes of all those present. “We—we all watched her die years ago, when we were just kids! So why? Why are you doing this to us? Why are you making us play another killing game?” Hana hopes her classmates can’t spot the tears stinging at the corners of her eyes. 

Monokuma just sighs. 

“That’s the problem with sequels, you know? There’s only so much shock value you can get from the premise alone now, and I haven’t even started to really explain it yet! Kids these days are so impatient.” He shakes his head, mockingly disappointed. 

“Don’t just ignore her questions like that! Who the hell are you, and why are we here?” Aika shouts, much to Hana’s relief. 

“Uh, I already answered both of those, though,” Monokuma replies with a hint of exasperation in his voice. “I am Monokuma, Hope’s Peak Academy’s Headmaster and—” 

“That’s not what they meant and you know it, dumbass!” Midori also chimes in, starting towards the monochromatic bear with the fiercest of scowls. “What’s it gonna take for you to—” 

Masamune’s arm shoots out in an instant, grabbing the girl by the collar of her jacket before she can take another step forward. “Careful.”

That single action appears to be more than enough to get Midori to set her sights on a new target. “Hey, don’t _fucking_ touch me!” The bodyguard’s hand is removed even before she can reach up to throttle it, much to the latter’s frustration. Midori faces Masamune and readies her fists, but Naomi’s comment stops everything and everyone in their tracks.

“I understand your frustration, but we really shouldn’t act so carelessly,” she tugs her sweater closer to her chest. “Do you remember what happened last time someone tried to...”

She trails off, but even that unfinished thought is enough to make Midori’s aggression fade in an instant. _Of course she does._ Hana can still conjure an image of the Spears of Gungir clear as day in her mind, and can guess that this is most likely the case for the majority of her classmates. 

“Upupu! Looks like it’s Brains: 1 and Brawn: 0!” Monokuma says. “But just because she gave you all the boring answer doesn’t mean she’s not right! If you’ll please draw your attention to your Student Handbooks!”

Something that had previously gone unnoticed now vibrates in Hana’s skirt pocket, and judging by the noise, this is a collective experience. She pulls out a small tablet about the size of her hand and presses the button on the side that she can only assume is the power switch. Sure enough, it boots up and shows a spinning Hope’s Peak Academy emblem before displaying a host of different menus. 

“I suppose now is as good a time as any to explain how exactly this killing game is going to work! I can assure you that there aren’t very many significant changes from the Killing School Life. Like a great bear once said: if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!”

Hana taps on the rules menu displayed on her Student Handbook.

**Rules:**

  * **Students may only reside within the bounds of the _M.S. Despair of the Seas_. Any attempts to leave the confines of it will be met with harsh punishment.**


  * **"Nighttime" is from 10 pm to 7 am. Some areas are off-limits at night, so please exercise caution.**


  * **Do not step past, place or throw objects past the yellow-dotted lines on the ship’s deck.**


  * **With minimal restrictions, you are free to explore the _M.S. Despair of the Seas_ at your discretion.**


  * **Violence against headmaster Monokuma is strictly prohibited, as is destruction of surveillance cameras and monitors.**


  * **When a murder is committed in the academy, a class trial will be conducted. Participation in this trial is mandatory for all surviving students.**


  * **If the killer (here in after referred to as "the blackened") is correctly identified during the class trial, only the blackened will be punished for their crime.**


  * **If the blackened cannot be identified, or if an incorrect student is identified as the blackened, all students except the blackened will be punished for the crime.**


  * **If the blackened survives the class trial, they are declared the winner. At which point, they will graduate and re-enter the outside world.**


  * **Monokuma will never directly participate in a murder.**


  * **Your Student Handbooks are very important items. Make sure you do not damage them.**


  * **A body discovery announcement will occur when three or more students discover a body.**


  * **Students who violate these rules will be exterminated.**


  * **The headmaster may add additional regulations to this list at any time.**



_That’s...a lot._

“Now, some of you might have noticed that Miss Sweetness over here has already broken one of those rules, and I guess Casper over here did too so he could save her skin,” Monokuma growls in Hana’s general direction _and—and Akira’s._ _When I fell over the—oh god._ Feeling fifteen other pairs of eyes turn to her, she pushes down chooses to meet the piercing blue pair gazing at her from under a pair of black-rimmed glasses; she and Akira share a terrified look. “But I guess since you didn’t know all the rules yet, I’ll let it slide, because I’m just so wonderfully kind. But this is a one time deal! I can’t just let people take advantage of my caring and generous nature left and right. Aaaanyways…” Hana lets go of a breath she hadn’t been aware she was holding. 

“Because I’m sure that at least half of you know how to read, I’ll just go over the most aaabb-solutely important one. If you ever want to leave this place, you’re going to have to become the blackened and get through a class trial without being discovered!” Monokuma puts his hands— _er, paws?_ —to his cheeks, blushing _though I’m not exactly sure how._ “Ah, this brings back memories of some truly gut-wrenching thrills, chills, kills! Doesn’t it get your heart racing? Blood boiling?” 

“Do we...Do we really have to do this?” Rei’s voice is small, the nervous smile on his face having returned _but_ _all for naught, I think_. “This really isn’t just some kinda joke?”

“It isn’t,” Jin’s flat voice rings out, sole red eye scanning the crowd, scrutinizing them. “Don’t turn from the truth just because it’s undesirable.”

“Wow, I’m more and more pleasantly surprised by the number of you that actually have brain cells!” Monokuma chortles. “Since you’re going to be living here for the foreseeable future, you might as well get used to that feeling of crushing despair. If you ever decide that you want that weight off your shoulders, well, you know what you have to do.” 

“Become...the blackened…” As quiet as she is, Hana can still hear Yume’s monotone mutterings. She prays the girl isn’t already considering it right out of the gate. 

“Remember that any violation of the school regulations will be severely punished,” the bear continues. “But it looks like it’s time for me to stop monologuing now. From the bottom of my heart, I truly hope you enjoy this Killing School Cruise!”

And then he’s gone. Bounces out of sight before anyone can stop him. _Not that I really think anyone would try it._

 _We all just stand there. Motionless. My eyes can’t settle on just one of my classmates—friends? enemies?—so they flit back and forth, taking in each one of their expressions as can be in a moment’s glance. Some clearly want to say something, anything; you can see the words bulging out their cheeks but nothing ever escapes their lips. We all just stand there. Look at each other. Not wondering_ **_if_ ** _we’ll end up killers, victims, but when. How. My heart pounds in my ears; one beat for every second that passes. I wonder—wonder if they can hear it too. This countdown to despair._

  
  



	2. Report Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> figured i would give a little more information on everyone now that they've all been introduced! this is general report card information like in the main games, but i've also included physical descriptions and the order they'll stand in the courtroom during the trials too :)))

  * Hana Akiyama 
    * Height: 155 cm (5’1”) / Weight: 45 kg (100 lbs) / Chest: 84 cm (33”) / Blood Type: A
    * Birthday: February 19
    * Likes: Patterned band aids, lolita fashion
    * Dislikes: Plain band aids, bugs, high temperatures
    * Talent: Ultimate Lucky Student
    * Hana wears a white, long-sleeve button up shirt paired with a strawberry-patterned skirt that goes to her knees, white lace socks and red mary janes. She also wears a long red scarf and a white and red lace headband with strawberries at the ends. She has light pink hair that reaches the end of her back with traces of brown roots and an ahoge, grey-pink eyes and a petite frame. 
  * Akira Saito 
    * Height: 167 cm (5’7”) / Weight: 55 kg (121 lbs) / Chest: 80 cm (31”) / Blood Type: A
    * Birthday: May 26
    * Likes: Potted plants, fountain pens, sterility
    * Dislikes: Being in charge, messy places
    * Talent: Ultimate Field Medic
    * Akira wears a white shirt, black pants, and an olive green jacket with its sleeves rolled up and red crosses displayed on both the left shoulder and the back of it. He also wears thin, circular glasses and short black gloves and a red first aid bag across his shoulder. While his white surgical mask is usually tucked under his chin, he’ll pull it up when he’s either nervous or working. He has short white hair that reaches the ends of his ears, bright blue eyes, and a scrawny frame.
  * Aika Ichihara 
    * Height: 165 cm (5’5”) / Weight: 51 kg (112 lbs) / Chest: 88 cm (35”) / Blood Type: B
    * Birthday: November 5
    * Likes: Citrus, warm weather
    * Dislikes: Minimalism
    * Talent: Ultimate Matchmaker
    * Aika wears a white, short-sleeve button up shirt with the first two buttons undone and a pair of human hearts embellished at each end of the collar paired with a red suspender skirt with white hearts on each pleat. She also wears black fishnets and red sneakers. She has red hair done up in twin buns that come down in tails and light blue eyes.
  * Camille Leblanc 
    * Height: 180 cm (5’11”) / Weight: 61 kg (135 lbs) / Chest: 90 cm (33”) / Blood Type: AB
    * Birthday: June 31
    * Likes: Snow, gardening
    * Dislikes: Ambient noise
    * Talent: Ultimate Lounge Singer
    * Camille wears a golden boat-neck evening gown, a black tulle shawl embellished with silver stars that usually sits on her elbows, and silver pumps. She has grey-brown eyes, platinum blonde hair done up in two knotted rings with black ribbons, and she wears a string of pearls. Camille has a strong frame, despite being moderately slender.
  * Jin Nakimura 
    * Height: 172 cm (5’8”) / Weight: 64 kg (142 lbs) / Chest: 86 cm (34”) / Blood Type: AB
    * Birthday: January 21
    * Likes: Thrills, chills, kills 
    * Dislikes: Peace and quiet, gore
    * Talent: Ultimate Horror Mangaka
    * Jin wears a white dress shirt, black vest, slacks and tie, and a dark red suit jacket. The jacket has two monochrome buttons that resemble eyes and are always kept undone, and the interior of it is an even darker red patterned with white spirals. He wears lapel pins that can only be described as depicting “splitting faces” that are connected by a small chain. He has wavy dark purple hair that reaches the back of his neck and bangs that completely obscure his left eye. His visible eye is a bright red, and the edge of a vertical scar just barely peeks out from under his bangs. Jin has noticeable bags under his eyes and usually slouches. 
  * Naomi Bushida 
    * Height: 168 cm (5’6”) / Weight: 59 kg (129 lbs) / Chest: 82 cm (32”) / Blood Type: A
    * Birthday: October 11
    * Likes: Feeling of water on skin, honesty
    * Dislikes: Hypocrites, the dark
    * Talent: Ultimate Serenity
    * Naomi wears a blue-white button up with cyan flowers embroidered around the collar, a blue knit cardigan sweater, a yellow skirt, and dark brown ankle boots. She has shoulder-length blonde hair, sea-green eyes, and gentle yet defined features. 
  * Shintaro Masuda 
    * Height: 173 cm (5’8”) / Weight: 67 kg (147 lbs) / Chest: 86 cm (34”) / Blood Type: B
    * Birthday: December 24
    * Likes: Enclosed spaces, cold weather
    * Dislikes: Birdsong
    * Talent: Ultimate ???
    * Shintaro wears a dark grey turtleneck, a navy blue trench coat, black pants, and black-brown combat boots. He has short light blue hair with an ahoge and grey eyes. He has high cheekbones, oddly shaped scars covering his hands, and a slightly muscular frame. 
  * Takeshi Yamane 
    * Height: 175 cm (5’9”) / Weight: 71 kg (157 lbs) / Chest: 82 cm (32”) / Blood Type: O
    * Birthday: April 4
    * Likes: Noise
    * Dislikes: Boring people, blue
    * Talent: Ultimate Daredevil
    * Takeshi wears a yellow and white jumpsuit with three logos displayed on the right pant leg and one above his heart. He also wears orange flame-shaped sunglasses, white tennis shoes, and a red fluffy cape that goes down to the middle of his thighs. He has messy orange hair that falls just above his shoulders; most of it hangs in front of his face, just barely framing his light brown eyes properly. Though his hair partially hides it, he has a horizontal scar running across his nose. He also has a very athletic build.
  * Rei Nishikawa 
    * Height: 157 cm (5’2”) / Weight: 51 kg (112 lbs) / Chest: 73 cm (29”) / Blood Type: AB
    * Birthday: June 23
    * Likes: Dogs, sharp objects
    * Dislikes: Math
    * Talent: Ultimate Tailor
    * Rei wears a navy pinstripe suit that ends in tails and brown renaissance-era trunk hose. A few spools of thread hang from his waist, and he wears a beret, brown loafers, and a soft measuring tape as a belt. He has short, dark blue hair, purple eyes and a very androgynous frame and facial features.
  * Yume Mori 
    * Height: 167 cm (5’6”) / Weight: 59 kg (129 lbs) / Chest: 80 cm (31”) / Blood Type: B
    * Birthday: February 1
    * Likes: Gold, moving parts
    * Dislikes: Battery-powered toys
    * Talent: Ultimate Toymaker
    * Yume wears a gold illusion-neckline shirt, purple tiered skirt that falls to her shins, and a brass corset. She also wears short brown tie-up boots, a small bag attached at her waist by a belt, and an old-fashioned pair of goggles with golden covers over the eyes sit on the top of her head. She has short purple hair pulled up in twin buns. The fingers on her right arm are covered in golden plates; the same plating can be found on her right forearm but wiring is also exposed here, and a brass tube connects the back of her hand and elbow. There are two golden gears embedded in her face, one circling her left eye and the other connecting to the bottom right of it; they never stop moving. 
  * Masamune Ohara 
    * Height: 193 cm (6’4”) / Weight: 86 kg (190 lbs) / Chest: 98 cm (39”) / Blood Type: AB
    * Birthday: May 10
    * Likes: Candy, silver
    * Dislikes: Open spaces, loud noise
    * Talent: Ultimate Bodyguard
    * Masamune wears a black gakuran uniform and black penny-loafers. He also has multiple piercings in his ears, though with his bangs, only the left ear is visible; a cross earring is connected here via chain to a cuff at the top of his ear. He has short black hair and eyes to match. He has a very muscular frame and is never caught slouching. 
  * Ichiro Yagami 
    * Height: 177 cm (5’10”) / Weight: 73 kg (160 lbs) / Chest: 81 cm (32”) / Blood Type: A
    * Birthday: December 7
    * Likes: Birdwatching, sushi
    * Dislikes: Hunting
    * Talent: Ultimate Sharpshooter
    * Ichiro wears a white turtle-necked shirt with a black crosshair pattern over his heart, dark green pants, white sneakers and a black jacket. He also wears a pair of headphones around his neck. He has long green hair that falls just past his shoulder and dark grey eyes. 
  * Sachi Iida 
    * Height: 150 cm (4’11”) / Weight: 41 kg (90 lbs) / Chest: 75 cm (30”) / Blood Type: O
    * Birthday: March 16
    * Likes: Gacha games, rabbits
    * Dislikes: Horror movies, perfectionists
    * Talent: Ultimate Voice Actress
    * Sachi wears a sailor-style school uniform with a green top, white skirt and brown sneakers. She also wears a green cat-eared headset and purple knee-high socks with rabbits on them. Her dark brown hair is pulled into twin braids and decorated with star-shaped barrettes. She has hazel eyes, sepia-brown skin and a small stature. 
  * Kano Kobayashi 
    * Height: 185 cm (6’1”) / Weight: 79 kg (175 lbs) / Chest: 81 cm (32”) / Blood Type: AB
    * Birthday: July 16
    * Likes: Bright lights, the forest
    * Dislikes: Filth, broken promises
    * Kano wears black religious robes with red detail work and a white stole; the robe ends at his ankles, allowing his white dress shoes to be visible. His long brown hair is pulled back into a thin ponytail with a red ribbon. He has pierced ears, reddish gray eyes and a crude line of stitches bisecting his face into two diagonal halves running from above his right eye to below his right eye.
  * Tohma Watanabe 
    * Height: 163 cm (5’4”) / Weight: 59 kg (131 lbs) / Chest: 80 cm (31”) / Blood Type: O
    * Birthday: August 15
    * Likes: Yellow, peoplewatching
    * Dislikes: Smell of blood, number 6
    * Talent: Ultimate Playwright
    * Tohma wears a long-sleeved, yellow collared shirt with white vertical stripes, brown pants and beige sneakers. He has dark tousled hair and golden eyes. He can usually be found with a steno pad and pencil in hand. 
  * Midori Endo 
    * Height: 160 cm (5’3”) / Weight: 51 kg (113 lbs) / Chest: 76 cm (30”) / Blood Type: B
    * Birthday: April 20
    * Likes: Training
    * Dislikes: Crowds
    * Talent: Ultimate Figure Skater
    * Midori wears a simple black figure skating dress; a red and white jersey jacket obscures it from the waist up. Her white boots are in the same style as traditional ice skates. She has shoulder length blue-green hair, purple-grey eyes and a slightly muscular frame. 
  * Courtroom Layout 
    * The courtroom layout is as followed, starting from the person in front (and slightly to the right) of Monokuma and going around clockwise: Tohma, Midori, Jin, Naomi, Masamune, Takeshi, Rei, Shintaro, Hana, Aika, Ichiro, Akira, Camille, Kano, Sachi, Yume




End file.
